


there's gold in them hills

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, a bit of, i just want it to be summer okay, only a tiny bit of, they hang out by a lake and see a bunch of wildlife and eventually kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5683741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry needs a break. Louis knows just the thing.<br/>(Sometimes all it takes is some time away from it all for things to fall into place) </p><p>AU where they both fell hard but danced around the truth, keeping it bottled up for fear of ruining everything; the feelings never went away and in fact only grew deeper as the years went on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's gold in them hills

A quiet knock on a plain hotel room door comes as early morning sunlight peeks over the horizon, reflecting off the skyscrapers stretching up into the sky like fingers. The world wakes up slowly, quietly on this morning, but Harry knows that it’s only a matter of time before the sound of the occasional car passing by on the street outside turns into the chaotic hum of rush hour traffic. 

He yawns and stretches his arms overhead, wincing as his back pops. The prospect of a weeklong break after the never ending rush of tour has never felt better. He feels worn thin, like a hole-filled shirt that’s been through the wash one too many times, on the verge of tearing apart because really, there’s only so much a person can take. He loves what he does, feels deep in his bones that this is what he’s meant to be doing, but some days he wishes he could take a few days and just sleep and lounge around on the couch, eating his mum’s cooking and watching all of his favourite movies three times over. 

He walks to the door, footsteps muffled by the ugly hotel carpet, and peers through the eyehole before opening the door for his best friend. Louis looks up at him for a moment before brushing past him, and sprawling out on the bed. He burrows under the covers, and Harry knows the sheets will be left smelling of cigarette smoke and aftershave, sweet and spicy and a little bitter. He only watches as Louis shifts around making himself comfortable, mesmerized by how the golden, early-morning light softens Louis’ features, eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks.

“Haz? Y’ alright?” Louis’ voice breaks him out of his train of thought. They stare at each other for a moment and then Harry steps across the room, sitting cross-legged at the edge of the bed. Louis sits up, the duvet pooling around his hips. 

“I’m tired, Lou.” 

Something in Louis’ expression flickers. He stretches one hand out, fingers dancing over Harry’s knee, relentless, until Harry squirms away, a small smile on his lips. He looks down at where Louis’ fingers have stilled on his knee and wonders if Louis feels the electric current pulsing between them, or if it’s just in his head. 

“Talk to me, Harry.” 

Harry sighs, picking at the hem of his t-shirt, “I sometimes just really want to get away from it all. Even if it’s only for a little while.”

“Well hey, that’s what this week is for, innit? 

“But anywhere I go, there’ll be people taking photos and - y’know how it is.” He flops down across the end of the bed, stretching out on his back, feet hanging off the edge. Silence settles between them. Harry watches Louis’ hands trace patterns in the sheets. His head tilts to the side, brow furrowed, a sure sign that he’s deep in thought and not to be interrupted. 

Harry closes his eyes, swinging his feet back and forth. 

“What if we did get away for a bit?” Louis’ voice is soft and quiet, barely more than a whisper.

He cracks one eye open, turning his head to Louis. “Whaddaya mean?”

“Hang on, I’ll be right back.” And just like that, Louis is pushing the duvet away, his feet touch the floor, and he’s out the door before Harry can call to him and ask him to stay for a little while longer. 

He only crawls under the blanket, burying his nose in the pillows that smell of Louis, just as he knew they would, a consistent, familiar comfort no matter where they are in the world. He drifts off to sleep in the early morning sunshine, weary body relaxing into the mattress, a little too soft for his liking but comfortable nonetheless. 

Just before noon, he’s roused from his morning nap by a soft tapping at his door. Louis bursts into the room, walking to the window before spinning on his heel, looking up at Harry with a wide smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes. He’s wearing a black and white crew neck jumper. It’s one of his favourites, Harry knows, though he hardly wears it out anymore. 

“I’ve planned a little trip for us. To get away from it all for a bit.” He licks his lips, as if he’s worried about how Harry will react, “If you’re up for it.” 

There’s that look in Louis’ eye that speaks of trouble and adventure, and, really, Harry’s always had a hard time resisting the lure of one of Louis’ grand schemes. His heart thumps loudly in his chest, and there’s something like a promise in the air between them. In spite of the weight sitting on his shoulders, he feels the corners of his lips lift into a smile and he shrugs, “I’m up for it.” 

xx

“Louis. We’re in the middle of nowhere. In Canada.” Harry states, more confused than anything as they pull into a rest stop tucked away among pine trees. Quite literally in the middle of nowhere. 

“Babe, everyone knows that we spend our breaks in London or LA.” Louis’ eyes light up with mischief as he looks over at Harry. It’s a good look on him, Harry thinks. “No one’s going to expect us to be in the middle of nowhere. In Canada.” 

A small smile tugs at Harry’s lips. “Bloody brilliant.” 

“Innit?” Louis grins, then climbs out of the rental car to fill up the tank and stock up on snacks. 

Harry watches him until he disappears into the small shop, a lightness to his step that’s been missing for years. He props his feet up on the dashboard, scrolling through his phone and adding to the playlist he started putting together once Louis had explained his plan a little further; have Preston rent them a car and smuggle them out of the city, drive north, just the two of them, until they’re somewhere remote enough, somewhere no one will expect them to be. 

Louis skips back to the car, arms laden with unfamiliar junk food that they’ll have to learn to love, and there’s something freeing about being away from cameras and curious eyes, no pressure to be Harry Styles or Louis Tomlinson of One Direction, just Harry and Louis, two best friends off on an adventure to the middle of nowhere. 

“All set?” Louis looks over at him, tossing crisps and chocolate bars and a water bottle into his lap as he settles back into the driver’s seat. 

“Good to go.”

Louis smiles as he puts the car into drive, pulling back onto the highway. There’s something undeniably soft in the way that Louis smiles at him sometimes, and Harry knows it’s different from the way he looks at the lads or his mum or sisters, but the thought of asking him about it makes his hands tremble. 

They drive on, soft harmonies filling the easy silence between them. Harry can’t help but steal glances in Louis’ direction every now and then, studying his profile, the way his eyes focus on the road ahead. He thinks he should be taking in the surrounding scenery, but he only really ever has eyes for Louis. 

He licks his lips, and Harry finds himself wondering what it would be like to kiss him. Wonders, not for the first time, how many people have had the privilege of doing so over the years. A twinge of jealousy grips his stomach. 

“Lou, have you ever really dated anyone?” 

“Not since the band started. Been a bit busy.” Louis sighs. “Besides, with the rumours already out there and Eleanor around it would have been too much. Can’t exactly have a camp gay boy in the band.” He laughs, but it’s bitter and low and breaks Harry’s heart into pieces. 

“None of this is fair,” Harry knows he’s pouting, knows he’s being ridiculous but he thinks about this all the time, tries to picture scenarios where Louis is himself always, without censoring his every word and movement. Harry knows how much the past few years have affected Louis, chipping away at his bright and wild and loud exterior and forming him into a shell of the person he used to be. Every now and then, Harry catches glimpses of the old Louis behind the careful facade and it makes him feel a rush of happiness, and a sense of longing for how things used to be. 

“We’ve been over this a million times, Haz, it is what it is,” 

They settle back into the silence, though it’s heavier now, laden with unspoken words. He faces the window, watching the landscape go by in a blur of greens and browns. At some point, Louis starts singing along to the music under his breath. Harry shuts his eyes, lets the smooth movement of the car and Louis’ voice lull him to sleep.

Only forty minutes later, a gentle hand on his shoulder shakes him awake. 

“C’mon Haz, we’re here.” He rubs the sleep from his eyes and looks out the window to see a small single-floor cottage nestled amongst towering green giants. Behind it, Harry can just make out a lake through the trees, water a sparkling blue, a shimmering reflection of the sky. 

“Whaddaya think?” Louis asks.

“It’s great, Lou. How’d you find it?”

“Made a few calls.” Louis opens the door, “C’mon then, let’s check it out.” 

They grab their bags from the trunk, and Louis unlocks the front door. The place is bright and cozy, with mismatched furniture and large windows that let the sunlight in. A colourful woven rug takes up most of the floor in the living room, and Harry thinks that if it weren’t so warm out he’d quite like to curl up on it and fall asleep in front of the woodstove fireplace that sits in one wall. It’s so unlike the hotel rooms they’ve been staying in for the past couple months and Harry falls in love with it immediately. 

“It’s so quiet.” He turns to Louis, a small smile on his lips, “Thanks, Louis.” 

Louis returns his smile, rubbing at his stomach, “You hungry? Could go for some supper if I’m being honest.” 

They put their bags in their respective rooms, meeting back in the kitchen. Harry looks through the grocery bags Louis packed for the trip and rummages through the cupboards for some pots and utensils. 

“Pasta alright?”

“Works for me.” 

They stand quietly side-by-side, leaning up against the counter as they wait for the water to come to a boil. Louis pulls out a cheap bottle of wine and they take turns sipping from it until Harry feels all hazy around the edges. 

They eat on the terrace at the back that overlooks the small hill leading down to the lake. The sunset burns red and gold, until the sky darkens to a deep midnight blue, hints of stars peeking through the tree canopy overhead. Crickets chirp, water softly laps at the shore below. Louis sighs softly and shifts in the chair next to him. A loon calls out in the distance, a haunting and mournful sound, Harry thinks. He yawns. 

Louis turns to him, “Let’s say we head to bed early, yeah?” 

Harry nods. He almost wishes Louis would suggest crawling into the same bed together, like they used to do when they were younger and feeling lonely and homesick while on the road. 

He thinks that if he asked, Louis would curl around him and they could fall asleep together. He doesn’t ask. 

xx 

He wakes up the next morning, limbs heavy but relaxed, and reaches over to pluck his phone from the nightstand. It’s almost noon. He texts his mother, promising to call her later once he eats and freshens up. 

“Morning, Haz.” Louis calls from the kitchen table, where he has his tablet open in front of him.

“Mornin’,” Harry goes about making himself a cup of tea. He sighs, a bone-deep tiredness settling over him as he waits for the water to boil. 

“Sleep well?” Louis asks. 

“Slept alright,” he says, picking up his mug and walking over to the couch, letting the soft cushions swallow him up. “I feel so tired sometimes, Lou.” 

Louis gets up from the table, sits next to him right up in his space, and Harry’s glad that the years, and everything that has come with them, have only done very little to change their absolute disregard of personal space around one another. Behind closed doors, they’re still mostly the same old Harry and Louis. 

“Talk to me, Harry,” he mumbles into Harry’s curls, an arm wrapped tight around his shoulders. Harry leans into him, breathing him in, reveling in the stillness of the moment. 

“It’s like… we had to grow up so fast and sometimes...” He pauses, “Sometimes I think I just need a really long nap.” Louis chuckles at that, all soft and sweet. 

“Well we’ve got til Sunday. Best make the most of it, hmm?” 

Harry nods and lets his head rest heavier on Louis’ shoulder. They stay like that for a few moments

“This isn’t normal, is it?” Louis gives him an inquisitive look, so Harry continues, “Like, with the cuddling and everything. Most friends don’t do this.” 

“I don’t think anything’s ever been all that normal with us, Harry.” Louis replies quietly. Harry mulls that over. 

“Do you ever get angry, Lou? At how much they made you change and, like, hide yourself away?” 

Louis glances down at him, something sad in his expression as he studies Harry’s face. He sighs. 

“This has all been weighing on you, hmm?” Harry only nods in response. “I think at the beginning I would have done anything if it had meant protecting you boys and helping the band.” He hesitates, contemplating his next words. “And there are still people who I can be m’self around, y’know? My mum and the girls. You.” He laughs quietly to himself. “I guess I do get angry sometimes. Not much I can do about it right now, though.” 

“You’re so good, Lou, y’know that?” in spite of himself, he feels tears bubbling up inside of him, threatening to spill over, “You’re so much better than all the shit they put you through.” His voice breaks around the last few words, and suddenly Louis’ hands are on his face, brushing away tears, and it’s like he’s given permission to break down completely, letting loose everything he’s been bottling up all this time. 

“It’s alright, love. It’s alright. We’ve all been through a lot, haven’t we?” Harry just nods into his shoulder.

“I love to perform, I love making people happy, it just gets to be so much sometimes, y’know?”

“I know, I know. But we have each other, we’ll always have each other. That has to count for something.” 

“It does.” 

Louis holds him a moment longer, only pulling away when Harry’s stomach starts to grumble. “Now let's get you some cereal, we have to enjoy the sunshine while we ‘ave the chance.” 

In spite of the heaviness of the previous moment, Harry finds himself giggling slightly. He takes a deep breath, feeling lighter, and goes about making himself some breakfast.

The rest of the day passes by slowly, and they choose to do nothing at all besides lounge by the lake in their swim trunks, letting the sun warm their bare skin. Harry dozes on and off, and flips through the book he’s been reading. They speak every now and then about nothing in particular, easy conversation that comes with years of close friendship. When a blue heron passes by overhead, Louis points up at it excitedly, and their eyes follow it until the bird disappears behind some trees. As the sun begins its descent in the sky, they walk back up to the cottage, skin sun-kissed, feeling warm and well-rested. 

Halfway through their dinner that night, Harry nudges Louis’ foot under the table. “Scrabble?”

Louis nods, smiling through a mouthful of leftover pasta, and they move to the living room, scrabble board between them as they sit cross-legged on the carpet. The rules are disregarded after a few rounds, with every word getting more and more ridiculous as time passes, until they’re both yawning through sleepy giggles and agree that it’s time to call it a night. 

xx

The next three days are much of the same, spent by the lake, soaking up the sunshine, and sleeping more than they have in the past year, most likely. 

“We’ve gotta pick up more food, we're running low," Louis says as he rummages through the fridge looking for something to eat. 

Harry pulls up google on his phone, looking for nearby places to shop, “There’s a farmer’s market not too far from here! All organic!” Louis rolls his eyes fondly and Harry flashes him a goofy smile. They polish off their cereal and pack themselves into the car, making the twenty-five minute drive further into the country. 

There’s a hand-painted sign proclaiming ‘Sweet Corn, Organic Fruits + Vegetables’ at the side of the road, an arrow pointing down a dirt driveway that leads to a rickety farmhouse, countless tables lined up and laden with all kinds of food. An elderly woman sits in a chair in the shade of a tree, and she gives them a smile and wave as they get out of the car. 

They wander through the tables, gently placing corn, peaches, apples, carrots and a small bucket of strawberries in their basket. Louis picks up a huge watermelon, tucking it under his arm. When they finally feel satisfied with their selections, they approach the woman, who stands and rings them through. 

“You boys aren’t from around here, are you?”

“Nope. UK.” Harry smiles at her, handing over the money.

“Have a lovely visit. Come back anytime.”

They wave goodbye, loading food into the car and make their way back to the cottage.

Harry slices the watermelon and they carry a bowl down to the lake, sitting side by side on the edge of the dock in nothing but their swim trunks, feet dangling in the water. They eat until they’re stuffed, fingers sticky and juice dripping down their chins. Louis wipes his fingers off on Harry’s stomach, and shrieks with laughter as Harry tries to shove him into the water. It ends with them both diving in, splashing water at one another until the skin of their fingers wrinkle and their lips start to turn blue. 

xx

“Lou?”

“Yeah Haz?” 

“Can we sleep out under the stars tonight?”

“‘Course we can.” 

They drag some old sleeping mats and sleeping bags down by the water, clearing a space for them by the firepit. Harry walks the area, picking up dry branches and leaves they can use for a fire. He looks up after about ten minutes, eyeing Louis for a moment. 

“Are you going to help me collect firewood or just sit on your lazy arse and watch me do all the hard work?” Harry asks, raising an eyebrow at Louis, who has stretched himself out on top of the blankets. 

“Well, Harold, I was thinking about it but now that you’ve insulted me I’ve decided I’ll just stay put, thank you very much,” Louis says with a shit eating grin.

“Louuuuuuuu, please help me collect firewood,” Harry drops the firewood into the pit and flops down onto the mats next to Louis, a pout forming on his face. Louis tugs at his curls, smiling down at him softly. 

“You think you can come over here with your curls and dimples and rope me into working, don’t you?”

“Mhmmmmmmm.” 

“Sorry to say that you’re wrong, love.” 

Harry grumbles but gets back to work, happy to build a small, albeit slightly crooked, campfire as Louis watches on. 

They sit side by side watching as the sun sinks below the horizon, colouring the sky with soft pinks and oranges and yellows, until the colours fade to black and the sky is lit up with stars. 

“I think I’d like to stay out here ‘til I’ve counted every last star,” Harry lies flat on his back, staring up at the night sky. 

“You are a strange one.” Louis’ face is obscured by shadows, but Harry can still make out the crinkles by his eyes as he smiles. 

“Does it ever make you feel small, though? Like, insignificant almost.”

“There’s nothing insignificant about you, Haz,” Louis whispers. Harry props his head up on his hand to look at Louis properly. There’s always been something so soft and vulnerable about him in moments like this, when his guard is down and his loud, rambunctious nature makes way for something quieter, something very few people are allowed to see.

Sometimes Harry thinks he loves Louis so much his heart could burst. And he thinks that that should scare him, but it doesn’t. 

“You too, Lou. Y’know you shine brighter than all the stars in the sky put together,” he knows the smile on his face is goofy, but he can’t help it. Louis chuckles, that quiet raspy laugh that Harry adores. 

Louis reaches his hand up, fingers tangling in Harry’s curls and scratching gently at his scalp. The look on his face is pensive, almost sad, as he studies Harry’s face. 

“Sometimes I wonder…” and then he’s leaning up and gently pulling Harry’s head down until their lips meet, soft and sweet and Harry’s heart is pounding so loudly in his chest he thinks it might wake up the whole world with the racket it’s making. 

“Wonder what?” Harry asks breathlessly as they pull apart.

“Wonder what it’d be like to kiss you.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Kiss me again?” Harry asks, and waits for Louis’ nod before leaning in a little more. Fingers gently pull at his hair, before moving to his face, thumbs running across his cheekbones so tenderly it makes his heart ache. 

“Crickets chirping, stars in the sky… this is proper romantic, innit?” Louis giggles once their lips separate, and Harry’s smiling so big it feels as though his face might split in two. 

“Could do without the mosquitoes, though.” 

“Could do. Shall we pack it in and call it a night?” 

They drag their sleeping bags up the hill to the cottage, hands clasped between them, and fall into Louis’ bed, legs tangling together. It feels so easy, so natural, as if they’ve done it a million times before. The smile never leaves Harry's face as he drifts off to sleep. 

xx

Harry wakes the next morning with a warm body curled up against his back, strong arms wrapped around his middle. Hot breath tickles the back of his neck and he squirms slightly, trying to stretch out his back without jostling Louis too much. 

“Mmffff, your hair’s everywhere,” Louis grumbles, sounding half asleep

“Morning Boobear.” Harry singsongs, giggling as Louis continues to grumble half-heartedly, something about old nicknames and regretting ever introducing Harry to his mother. 

“Just for that, you have to make me breakfast.”

“Okay. Eggs on toast?” 

“Mmm, yeah, alright.” 

Harry swings his legs over the side of the bed, and walks into the bathroom down the hall to splash his face with water and brush his teeth. He makes his way into the kitchen and starts pulling out ingredients. 

“Louiiiiis?” Harry calls out. 

“Oi, oiiii.” Louis replies from the bedroom, voice slightly muffled by the walls.

“Scrambled or over-easy?”

“Scrambled!” 

Harry smiles to himself and goes about beating the eggs, adding some salt and pepper, putting a dollop of butter in a frying pan. Eventually Louis shuffles into the kitchen, lifting himself onto the counter as he watches Harry work. 

Harry turns to lean against the counter opposite Louis, facing him. They watch each other a moment, and then Harry asks, “Should we talk about this?”

“What’s there to talk about?” 

“There’s always been something here, hasn’t there? Like, something between us. More than friendship?”

“Yeah, Harry. I think it’s always been you for me.” 

“Can’t help but think we’ve wasted so much time,” Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Louis hops down from the counter and closes the distance between them, reaching one hand up to run gentle fingers through his curls. He smiles, expression all soft and open. “Better late than never, isn’t that right, Harold? Besides. We’ve still had the last few years together. Just maybe not in every way.” 

Harry smiles at that and leans down to kiss him.

“I can’t believe it took us this long to get our shit together,” Harry says as he pulls back, “Management is going to flip when they find out.” Louis throws his head back as he laughs. Harry wants to make him laugh like that all the time. 

“We’ll deal with that when the time comes. Now, I believe you promised me breakfast?” Louis raises one eyebrow, deft fingers poking at Harry’s sides. 

Harry giggles. “I believe I did.” 

He finishes up with the eggs, buttering toast and bringing it all out to the table, while Louis goes about making tea. They sit at the kitchen table, ankles hooked together as they eat. 

“This is brilliant, Haz.” Louis says as he shovels eggs into his mouth, “I’m g’na have to get you to cook for me all the time now.” Harry beams at him, filled with pride. 

“I think we could probably work something out,” he laughs, then turns bashful, cheeks flushing slightly as he says, “I like cooking for you.” 

“I like when you cook for me.” Louis says softly, “More tea?” And Harry nods, something in him aching with how domestic this all feels, how natural it is for them to move around each other in a shared space. They do the washing up together, elbows brushing while Harry washes, Louis rinsing and drying. They pause every now and then to kiss, learning the taste of each other’s mouths, smiles on their lips every time they pull apart. 

xx 

Darkness settles around them, like a warm blanket that keeps monsters at bay, and Harry can tell by the way that Louis is breathing that he’s awake. His mind won’t stop running in circles so he turns on his side to face Louis; he reaches one hand out to touch him and can feel him react, moving so their chests are nearly touching, noses softly brushing together. Harry smiles. 

“I used to be scared, I think,” Louis whispers, so quietly Harry wonders if he meant to speak the words out loud at all. 

“Scared of what?” 

“Of what it might mean to love you. I was afraid of what that might mean for you, and I thought that if I could only keep it all in and maybe get over it that I’d be able to protect you,” the corners of his lips turn downwards; he’s making that face he does when he’s desperately trying to hold back tears and it makes Harry want to scream or maybe just quietly cry along with him, “But it’s always been you for me, hasn’t it? It’s been years and that hasn’t changed. And I feel like such a coward sometimes for not telling you.”

“You’re braver than anyone I’ve ever met, Lou.” 

“I tried to tell myself that you didn’t feel the same, even when you looked at me that way you do. So I never said anything.” He laughs, a soft bitter sound that makes Harry's heart lurch in the worst way. 

“I used to be scared too, Lou.”

“Yeah?”

“I remember that first night we spent at the bungalow… I wanted to kiss you so badly. I’d never wanted to kiss another boy like that before. And you, like, looked at me like you knew? But I couldn’t do it.” 

“I think I remember.”

“Yeah. ‘M not scared anymore, though.” As if to prove it, he moves into Louis’ space, pressing their lips together, tasting him, breathing him in, “I’m not.” 

"Me neither." 

The kiss deepens, but only for a moment, until it’s just soft sleepy presses lulling them both to sleep. 

xx

“Harry.”

“Mmph.”

“Wake up, love, you’re going to want to see this.”

Harry sits up, attempts to wipe the sleep from his eyes while Louis watches him, perched on the edge of the bed.

“What?”

“C’mere.”

Louis takes his hand and pulls him out to the living room. He slows as they near the large bay window, and then carefully points outside, just beyond the treeline. Harry blinks, eyelids fighting to close, but then he sees what Louis got him up for and his eyes widen, mouth forming a soft ‘o’ shape.

“Aren’t they beautiful?”

Just nestled among the trees is a doe and her fawn, grazing in the shrubs, oblivious to the onlookers. Harry steps closer to the glass

“Hey, Lou?”

“Yeah, Haz?” 

“What do you call a deer with no eyes?”

“...”

“No i-deer.” Louis just gives him an incredulous look, but it’s only a moment before they’re laughing together, struggling to catch their breaths. The doe and fawn startle, disappearing into the brush. 

“That was absolutely awful. Look at that, it was so bad you scared them away.” 

Harry only grins at him, and stretches his arms overhead, wincing at the cracks and pops that he’s become all too familiar with.

“Back bothering you?” 

“No more than usual.”

"I'm gonna give you a massage, okay?"

Louis leads him back to the bed, pushes him down face first and then settles over him. He begins to knead at the knots in his shoulders, and Harry sighs as some of the tension is eased. Soon enough, he’s drifting back to sleep, body completely relaxed.

xx

On their second to last day, the sky fills with dark angry clouds that eventually open up, letting loose rain and loud claps of thunder that shake the cottage. Harry stands at the window, looking out at the lake.  
“Hmm. Seems dangerous.” But Harry looks down at Louis and there’s that familiar spark in his eye. They study each other a moment, then turn for the door, leaving a trail of clothes behind them as they run out into the downpour. They dance about, shouting and singing tuneless songs. Their laughter is nearly drowned out by the wind and they cling to each other as they spin around. 

Harry kisses Louis right there in the middle of it all, a storm howling around them. They stay like that until they both start to shiver, lips turning blue, and then they drag themselves back into the cottage, towelling off and building a fire in the wood stove before curling up together on the couch. Harry keeps leaning down to kiss Louis and he thinks that he won’t ever be able to stop.

The storm clears, eventually, and the following sunset paints the room in a sweet orange glow. As the oranges fade to navy blues, Louis sits up to face Harry and clears his throat, one hand reaching out to brush his hair back. They look into each other's eyes for a moment, and it feels so comfortable, so familiar. Louis smiles. “I’m in love with you.”

Harry studies Louis’ face, and feels a sense of calm wash over him, and he’s never been so sure of anything in his life when he replies, “I’m in love with you, too.” 

“It’s going to be hard, when we get back. But this is special, y’know? Something to fight for.”

"I'm ready to fight for it," Harry says quietly. He leans forward and presses their lips together, teeth knocking as they smile into the kiss. 

xx

It’s with a heavy heart that Harry packs up his things the next morning. They seem to have scattered all over the cottage, mingling with Louis' belongings, managing to claim the space in such a short span of time. 

They lock the cottage and pack up the car. Louis intertwines their fingers, holding hands for most of the way back. They sing along to the songs Harry puts on, laughing at nothing and everything. Harry thought that nerves would get the best of him the closer they got to the airport, worried about consequences and judgments, but with Louis’ hand in his, he feels as though they can do anything. 

There’s something about loving someone and having someone love him right back that makes him feel braver than he ever has in his life. He meets Louis’ eyes, kisses his knuckles, and knows they’ll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a small little idea and turned into 5000ish words with little plot or direction so I hope it's at least kind of enjoyable and makes sense. Thanks for reading!


End file.
